


be nobody but yourself

by Murphtastic



Series: the box is temporary [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Manhandling, Panic Attacks, Protectiveness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-11
Updated: 2013-03-16
Packaged: 2017-12-04 23:06:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/716114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murphtastic/pseuds/Murphtastic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>He smiles widely at Stiles’ dad—a sheriff if JARVIS was right and JARVIS is always right—and holds his hands out in front of him, hoping he doesn’t look like someone who steals children for a living. Which is absurd. Tony doesn’t need to</i> steal <i>children. He could totally buy some of his own.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this was supposed to be kind of a light hearted one-shot because I wanted a Teen Wolf/Avengers crossover and who better to do that then with Stiles and Tony? Then it sort of morphed into...this. Many people have written TW/Avengers crossovers that are way better than this one, but no one was writing my idea so I was forced to write it myself. Oh, the horror.
> 
> I started thinking about this sometime in October or November of last year and wrote it in fits and starts. Many thanks to Rinna and Misha who were there to bounce ideas off and point out my errors. Any flaws that still remain are all my fault.
> 
> I feel like there should be more things in the additional tags. Let me know if I miss something. Some tags aren't applicable until part two. Which is also when Derek shows up, by the way. He is totally in this story, I promise.

Tony finds the papers by accident. He's going through some of Howard's old stuff, looking for some picture Steve had remembered being taken of him, Howard, and Peggy. He'd sounded fond and wistful and Tony's a giant sucker when it comes to making Steve happy (which no one will _ever_ know) so he'd taken a drive to the Stark mansion in upstate New York to poke through Howard's things that are stored in the attic. He's looking through the oldest of Howard's boxes and not having any luck finding this fabled picture when he comes across a metal lockbox.

It's nothing special, one of those old pieces of crap that claim to be fireproof but everyone knows they aren't. Tony's not sure how he hasn't come across this before, but it looks like Howard had done a good job of hiding the lockbox. It's crammed into the corner behind a box that has Howard's parent's things. Tony takes a moment to boggle at Howard’s shitty hiding place. Yeah, it was in a place that not many people who go looking for it, but Howard knew all kinds of places to hide shit and behind some boxes was not one of his better places.

Tony tucks the lockbox under one arm and fights his way back out of the boxes, mutant dust bunnies, and dead spiders. He really needs to have Pepper hire someone to go through all this shit so Tony doesn’t have to.

The lock is flimsy and breaks easily when he jams a screwdriver under the lid in a couple of places and levers up. Really, Tony’s disappointed in Howard’s lack of security. He had to figure that Tony was going to find this. Tony finds out everything eventually. Knowledge is power and he wants all of it.

He’s expecting blueprints for some weapon that shouldn’t see the light of day or hey, maybe something cryptic that will require Tony to destroy part of his house trying to create another new element. What he isn’t expecting to find is a birth certificate for a baby girl named Kristine Dudek, birth mother Alicja Dudek.  The father's name is blank, in a completely shocking turn of events. Tony’s not surprised, though, especially once he finds the confidentiality agreement signed by Howard and Alicja. He flips through a few pages of the thick agreement, the pages brittle and dusty under his fingers. Howard had been generous—very generous for the time. A whole lot of money in exchange for never darkening the Stark doorway again or breathing a word about who Kristine’s real father might be.

It's crazy and Tony almost can't wrap his head around it, but--he has a sister. Tony's always wanted a sister. Or brother. He never really cared which. Just _someone_.  He sets JARVIS to work trying to find Kristine (his sister _._ He has a _sister_!)  while he makes the drive back home, not even caring that he’s getting dust bunnies and dried spider pieces all over his Maserati.  

The drive back and subsequent shower time for Tony is long enough for JARVIS to find just about every piece of information about his sister. By that time he’s ensconced in his workshop and pretending like he’s not avoiding Pepper. She has papers or something he’s supposed to sign. Boring. It’s possible that maybe she was wondering where he went if the ten missed calls and multiple texts that say “Where are you?!” in increasingly louder volume and capital letters. Tony may have forgotten to mention to Pepper that he was going to the house upstate. Oops. Tony types out a half hearted reply about needing to find "a thing" and pokes at one of his many half-finished projects. He’s too antsy, though, and can’t concentrate long enough to do anything but solder the tip of his finger to a circuit board.

Tony's elated when JARVIS says he's located Tony's sister and then depressed as hell when JARVIS says that Kristine Dudek Stilinski is deceased. Less than five years ago, too. Shit. If he'd been a little more willing to go through Howard's stuff instead of ignoring it, he could have met his sister. Tony's heading for one of his secret scotch stashes when JARVIS interrupts him. "Sir, your sister married."

"Tell me something I don't know." Where did he hide that bottle?

"Sir," JARVIS says again. "Kristine Dudek married John Stilinski and they had a son in 1995." JARVIS proceeds to make a noise Tony has never heard him make before.

Tony has half his body in a storage cabinet and can't remember if Pepper dumped the bottle in here out or not. It's possible this stash of scotch wasn't so secret. "What was--did you just _sneeze_ , JARVIS?"

"No, sir." JARVIS makes the noise again and Tony's starting to get concerned now. "That is their son's name."

Tony makes a face. What the hell? "Oh, Jesus. Really? Did they hate this kid or what?"

"Your nephew's Facebook profile indicates he goes by "Stiles"."

"That's not much better. Wait--" Tony straightens up and smashes his head on the bottom of a shelf. "Ow, fuck. JARVIS, I have a nephew!"

"Indeed, sir."

"Figure out where he lives, JARVIS, I wanna meet this kid.”

“He lives in Beacon Hills, California, sir, with his father.”

“California? Seriously?” Tony can’t believe it. He’s been so close (well, eight or ten hours close) to his last living family for years and had no idea. Completely unacceptable.

“Indeed, sir. Would you like me to arrange a flight to California on your personal jet?”

Tony abandons his search for the lost (probably dumped) scotch. “Yes. No! I’ll take the suit. I should take the suit, right? He’ll be impressed. Kids like to be impressed, right? Is that too much? Maybe he’s too old to be impressed by the suit. It’s too much, isn’t it?”

JARVIS, because he is the best AI ever, says “Perhaps sir should take the jet out and bring his portable suit.”

Tony snaps his fingers and points at the ceiling. “Yes! Perfect. Do that. Book a flight or gas up the jet or whatever.” Beacon Hills, prepare yourself for Tony Stark. Tony grins and then he trips and almost brains himself on the corner of a table because he’s too preoccupied thinking of all the cool stuff he’s going to do with his new nephew. JARVIS is kind enough not to mention it.  

****

Stiles and his dad are sitting at the dining room table drinking coffee (his dad) and eating a bowl of Peanut Butter Crunch (Stiles) when the doorbell rings. Stiles exchanges confused looks with his dad, because no one rings their doorbell at eight in the morning. On a Saturday. Stiles doesn’t even really know why he’s awake other than his dad wanting Stiles to suffer the agony of not being able to sleep in. Stiles and his dad hold a silent "You get it.” “No you get it." conversation with eyebrows that ends with his dad winning, because, well, no one defeats his dad at Eyebrow Wars. Stiles shoves one last heaping spoonful of peanut buttery goodness into his mouth before getting up. Dad rolls his eyes and goes back to his paper and coffee.

Stiles is still almost to the door when the bell rings again, followed by knocking. He squints at the door in suspicion. Scott wouldn't knock, he'd just come in, plus, Stiles is pretty sure he gave Scott a key when they were in, like, fifth grade. It’s a good bet that Scott lost the key. He opens the door just as the doorbell rings _again_ and gapes for a few seconds before shutting the door hastily.

"Stiles?" Dad is standing in the doorway to the kitchen, coffee cup firmly in hand. "What's wrong?" Dad is on shift today and tries to rest his hand on his gun before realizing he hasn't gotten it out of the safe yet.

"Wrong? I don't know if I'd say anything was _wrong_." Stiles winces as their doorbell rings again and the knocking starts up in earnest. "Just. I think that Tony Stark is on our front porch? Dad, why would Tony Stark be on our front porch? Why is _Iron Man_ on our front porch?!"

Dad stops groping for a gun that isn't there and shakes his head. "Is he wearing the armor?”

Stiles opens the door for a quick look and then shuts it again. He ignores the look _Tony Motherfucking Stark_ gives him and turns back to his dad. “No armor. But his shirt says AC DC. I suddenly respect him a lot less, Dad.”

“I wasn’t aware you respected him at all, kid. Also, AC DC is awesome.”

“Don’t say awesome, Dad, it makes you sound old. _Also_ , AC DC hasn’t been awesome since before I was born.”

“Stop making me feel old, then.” Dad takes another drink of his coffee. “Maybe you could, I don't know, open the door and see what he wants?"

Stiles scoffs. "Pfft, like you need any help feeling old. Maybe if you stopped sneaking cheeseburgers on the side, you’d feel a lot younger.”

“Stiles. Let the man in before he breaks my doorbell.”

“Sure, I _could_ do that, but it would probably just be easier if you told me what you did." Stiles crosses his arms and looks at his dad expectantly.

"What _I_ did?"

"Yeah, weren't you trying to get Stark tech for the station? You know it's not okay to ask the CEO of the company, Dad."

Dad huffs out a laugh and shakes his head again. "Stiles, just let the man inside. Preferably before he gets out his suit and vaporizes the door.”

 "Well, okay, but I wanted it noted that it was your idea to let a random billionaire into our house." Stiles swings the door open wide and yep, still Tony Stark standing on the front porch. He looks a little crankier than he did a few minutes ago, but maybe he always looks like that? "So, hey, hi, Tony Stark."

Tony Stark (Stiles can't stop thinking of him like that: Tony Stark.) grins at Stiles and steps inside. He opens his arms wide like he's going in for a hug and Stiles steps back but doesn't quite make it in time. Then he's being hugged. By Tony Stark. He, Stiles Stilinski is being _hugged_ by _Tony Stark_. Tony Stark who is also _Iron Man_. And it's not even a regular hug, it's more like a bear hug. Stiles can't stop his arms from flailing around a little while he looks to his dad for help.

Dad is no help. If anything, he's less help than anyone could possibly be. All he's doing is standing there, looking a little perplexed, but clearly not alarmed that strange billionaires are hugging his one and only son. Apparently Stiles is on his own in cases of random hug attacks. He contains his flailing and tries to push Stark away, but the guy just clings tighter and mumbles something that Stiles can't understand into Stiles' shoulder. Stiles sighs, pats Stark on the shoulder tentatively, and lets the guy just--hug it out.

Stark finally lets him go after a solid five minute hug. Stiles likes to hug, but that? That's some serious hug dedication right there. Stiles scrubs a hand over his hair and bites his lip. "Hey, so."

Stark looks a little sheepish, but recovers quickly and claps his hands together. “You're Stiles, right? Stiles Stilinski?"

Stiles shoots a look at his dad who's apparently used the time Stiles was getting surprise hugged to get a refill on his coffee, which is just. Wow. He narrows his eyes at his dad, who shrugs and leans against the doorframe like he's settling in for a show. "I'm Stiles, yeah. Seriously, dude, what? I mean, with the hugging? And the being on our front porch."

Stark looks delighted. "Do you want another?"

"What?" Stiles splutters. "What?! No! I don't want another--why were you hugging me in the first place?"

Stark looks disappointed that he's not getting a second hug, but only for a second. He grins at Stiles, and okay, Stiles has to admit, he can see why some magazines keep calling Tony Stark “dreamy”. "Get used to it, kid. I'm gonna be hugging you a lot."

Stiles makes a face. "Um. I think that--I mean. I don't. Is this some kind of community service or something?" he blurts out.

"I like you, kid." Stark slings an arm over Stiles' shoulders and steers Stiles towards the kitchen. "I'll be hugging you a lot because all uncles want to hug their nephews."

"I'm sorry, _what_?"

****

The Stilinski house is pretty small as far as Tony is concerned, but as Pepper keeps reminding him “Not everyone has four mansions and a skyscraper in New York City, Tony.” So he figures he’ll just keep quiet about the relative size of the house. It’s nice, though. A little cluttered, but it feels comfortable and lived in and like the people who live here care about it.

Said people are currently staring at Tony in suspicion. Stiles looks more incredulous, but his dad looks like he wishes he had his gun. Tony’s aware enough to notice that holster is empty, thank you very much. He smiles widely at Stiles’ dad—a sheriff if JARVIS was right and JARVIS is always right—and holds his hands out in front of him, hoping he doesn’t look like someone who steals children for a living. Which is absurd. Tony doesn’t need to _steal_ children. He could totally buy some of his own. “Is that coffee? I need coffee. You should give your uncle some coffee. ”

That seems to break the weird tableau they have going. Enough for the Sheriff to turn around and head into what Tony hopes is the room where the coffee lives. Stiles stares at him some more and does sort of a full body flail, and then sighs. “Coffee. Yeah, we have coffee. C’mon into the kitchen, Mr. Stark.”

Tony grins full out and claps the kid on the shoulder. “Tony, call me Tony! I insist. Or,” he says slowly, excitement growing, “call me Uncle Tony! You should totally call me Uncle Tony.”

Stiles splutters a bit and tries to shrug off Tony’s hand with no success. “I don’t even. Uncle? What the hell, man?”

“Stiles, bring “Uncle Tony” into the kitchen for his damn coffee!” the Sheriff calls out and Stiles twitches when Tony’s hand on his shoulder turns into Tony slinging his whole arm over both Stiles’ shoulders. He doesn’t object when Tony steers them both towards the kitchen. That’s progress right there. Tony is calling that progress.

Stiles’ dad (aka The Sheriff—really wouldn’t do to forget that little detail) holds out a mug of coffee to Tony. Stiles takes the opportunity to duck out from under Tony’s arm and go hide behind his dad. Tony tsks a bit, but decides its best not to push since it appears that the Sheriff has managed to find his gun and he’s looking less and less amused at having Tony Stark in his kitchen.

“So! Turns out that Kristine Dudek Stilinski was my half-sister.” Tony slowly takes a drink of coffee and lets that sink in. The Sheriff looks a little skeptical and his expression is mirrored on his son’s face. Tony takes another drink of coffee and decides that Stiles must look a lot like his mother, what with the brown hair and eyes, where the Sheriff is blond and blue.

“Don’t suppose you have any proof of this, Mr. Stark?” The Sheriff sets his coffee down and looks expectant.

“Seriously, call me Tony. And yes, I have proof.” Tony hands over Kristine’s birth certificate and the non-disclosure agreement signed by her mother. Stiles doesn’t even pretend that he isn’t looking over his father’s shoulder and Tony can see the previous disbelief turning into something like acceptance mixed with a healthy dose of caution. He sniffs in approval and takes a drink--terrible tasting, but Tony has _some_ manners so he won’t mention it. He whips out his phone and fires off a message to JARVIS to have something gourmet sent over. And maybe a new coffee machine. He takes another drink, refrains from grimacing, and congratulates himself on having a nephew that doesn’t take things at face value. Kid’s going to go far.

Finally, the Sheriff turns to Stiles and smiles a bit. “Well, kid. I guess this explains the trust fund your mother set up for you.”

Tony perks up at that. “Trust fund?”

Stiles looks a little at his dad askance, but answers Tony’s question. “Yeah. My mom. Uh. I guess she had a lot of money we didn’t know about until she—until she.” Stiles swallows and Tony feels like a shitheel. It’s really obvious that father and son are still mourning their loss. Stiles comes back from wherever he went and clears his throat. “Anyway, turns out Nana Dudek left Mom a lot of money and Mom left it to me for school. Or whatever.”

The Sheriff wraps an arm around Stiles and gives him a quick hug. He shoots Tony a Pepper worthy look of disappointment. And yeah, Tony didn’t set out to come see his nephew and then make him cry. Tony is an asshole but he’s good at fixing things. With money. “Don’t worry about college, kid. I got you covered.”

Stiles’ mouth drops open and he stares back and forth between his dad and Tony. “Uh. I—you can’t just.”

Tony waves his hand again. “I can just. I have a lot of money. Why wouldn’t I want to spend it on my favorite nephew?”

“Because you don’t know for sure if I’m really your nephew?”

“Oh, you are. I checked.”

The Sheriff’s eyebrows furrow as he looks warily at Tony. “And just how did you manage that, Mr. Stark?”

Oops. Tony hadn’t meant to let that slip yet. “Call me Tony. Also, it’s possible that I might have been able to run a DNA test using the information already on file already for Stiles?”

“You mean you used the DNA sample from Stiles’ missing child prevention kit? Mr. Stark, you are aware that that’s highly illegal? How did you even get access to it?”

Tony waves his hand not holding a coffee cup in the air. “All through mostly legal channels.” He frowns a bit. “Pretty sure they were legal channels. I’m, hmm, 80% sure it was a legal channel. 60% on the low end.”

The Sheriff looks like he might be on the verge of arresting Tony when Stiles nudges his dad in the shoulder. “Hey, Dad, don’t you have to be at the station? Like now, actually.”

“Stiles, I really don’t want to leave you in the kitchen with a strange man.”

Stiles rolls his eyes and Tony can’t help the surge of pride that he feels at the truly amazing display of eye rollage he’s just seen. “Dad, seriously. Tony Stark is not going to do anything to me. Except probably try to buy my love. That sound about right, Tony?”

Tony laughs. Best nephew ever or best nephew ever? “Guilty.” he replies, knowing the smile he’s sporting is fond. _Fond_. If Barton were here he’d accuse Tony of being replaced by a pod person. Tony is a lot of things to a lot of people, but fond generally isn’t one of them. Except maybe Pepper, but he tries not to do it in public. He has a reputation to maintain after all.

“See? Me and Tony are going to hang out and maybe go get some coffee that isn’t Folgers—“ Stiles ignores Tony’s horrified gasp. “—and then I’ll show him around town. Or whatever. Once you get off shift, we’ll have a, a family dinner. I’ll even let you have real meat.”

Shit. A family dinner? Dinner. With family.

With _his_ family.

Tony thinks that sounds pretty awesome.

****

Dad looks skeptical about Stiles really allowing him to have real meat, but he finally nods and sets his cup down. “I want steak,” he says, pointing at Stiles. “A big one. And baked potatoes.” He eyes Tony, who grins and gives him a thumbs up. “And cake.”

“Wow, way to take advantage, Dad. Jeez.”

“Hey, it isn’t every day that my brother in law comes to town. We have to celebrate.” His dad is trying for an innocent look, but Stiles knows all and sees all.

“Uh huh. Whatever. Go to work or Peggy will give you a disappointed look.” Peggy has been dad’s secretary slash organizer of his work life since Stiles was a kid. Stiles had been scared of her at first, with the way she pulled her hair back in severe bun and sort of drew on her eyebrows along with smoking like a chimney. But Peggy always had a secret stash of Dum Dums that she used to bribe Stiles into staying still for a half an hour at a time. Candy was a powerful motivator back then. Peggy’s moved onto giving Stiles Reese's peanut butter cups. Smart woman.

“Can’t have that, now can we?” Dad says drily and grabs his coat from where it’s been tossed over the counter. “Try to keep things low key today, okay, kid? Before you and Mr. Stark here end up all over tweeter.”

 _Tweeter._ His dad, ladies and gentlemen. “Twitter, Dad. _Twitter_. And I’m going to show him around town. It’ll take all of twenty minutes and then we’ll spend the rest of the time being awkward around each other. It’s gonna be great. Right, Tony?”

Tony looks up from where he’s been typing something into his phone. “Of course it’ll be great!”

Dad sighs as he looks between the two of them. “I’m going to regret this. We’re going to have those paparazzi in my town before the day’s over, I just know it.” He heads for the door with a wave to both of them. “Stiles, why don’t you show Mr. Stark some of the photo albums in the living room. I’m sure he’s interested in seeing pictures of Mom.”

Stiles swallows around the sudden lump in his throat. He and his dad don’t look at the old albums a lot these days. Not together, anyway. Stiles knows that Dad will thumb through them sometimes if he’s had a few too many ounces of whiskey to drink and Stiles flips through them on days before he heads out to the cemetery, but never at the same time. It’s still too hard. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, Dad. I’ll—we’ll do that.” Dad gives Stiles a reassuring smile and then he’s gone.

Leaving Stiles alone with Tony Stark. Who is his uncle. No, this isn’t weird at all. Stiles clears his throat nervously and spends a little time fiddling with the hem of his shirt and staring at his feet, trying to process this Saturday morning weirdness. Mom had never talked about her side of the family much. Only that Nana Dudek had emigrated to the US when she was a teenager and used to clean houses for rich people. Mom had never mentioned her father and Nana had never been married and she passed away when Stiles was too young to really remember anything other than vague impressions of sitting in a gray haired woman’s lap. Dad was an only child and his parents were gone before Stiles was even born. And now Stiles has family other than his Dad. Craziness.

Stiles looks up from his way too long study of the floor to see Tony staring at him, lips quirked in a way was supposed to look smarmy, but looked sort of sad to Stiles. “So. I—sorry. This is so weird.” He gives Tony a nervous smile. “I just. There’s never been anyone else, you know? Just my mom and dad. And then just my dad. And now you. Which is—“

“Weird.” Tony cuts in. “I know. It is for me, too, kid. I always figured I would be the last Stark.” He looks away from Stiles and takes another drink of coffee and can’t hold back a grimace.

“Oh, god, don’t drink that. It’s the worst. Dad keeps buying it and I keep telling him that instant coffee isn’t really coffee, you know?” Stiles never considers drinking it even if he’s at his most desperate.

Tony dumps the coffee in the sink with a shudder even as he waves away Stiles’ comments. “Hey, I know how it is to be on a budget. Well,” Tony frowns. “No. I don’t know how it is, but I’ve had to read and sign budgets and that’s not fun.”

Stiles scrunches up his face. “Um. It’s not that we can’t afford decent coffee, it’s just Dad likes that gross stuff. I think it’s part of being a cop. They all love shitty coffee. You ever meet a cop that grinds his own beans, you run. Run far away. For they are harbingers of doom.”

Tony laughs and then looks a little surprised, like he isn't used to laughing a lot. “They’re probably government assassins or something. Those guys always know where to find the best coffee.”

“You know government assassins?” Stiles knows his eyes are bugging out in that way that is not attractive at all, but. _Government assassins_. “What am I saying, of course you know government assassins. That is so cool.”

“I know a couple of them personally.” Tony smirks at the strangled noise Stiles makes and leans against the counter. “But you didn’t hear that from me. As far as you’re concerned there’s no such thing as government assassins.” He points a finger at Stiles. “And no, you will never meet them. Got that?”

Stiles deflates a little. No government assassin meeting? Total suckage. But maybe— “Okay, no meeting assassins. But what about the Hulk? And Captain America? I know you know them. I saw all the footage on YouTube.”

“No.”

“No, you don’t know them or no, I can’t meet them?”

Tony gives Stiles a dirty look. “Both.”

“Jeez, it’s like you don't want me to have any fun.” Stiles crosses his arms over his chest and sighs. “It’s okay if you don’t know them. You can’t know _all_ the cool people, right? I bet you don’t even know someone who knows them. That’s okay.”

Tony straightens up from his slouch and looks indignant. “That is patently untrue. I could call up Bruce right now and—“

“Aha!” Stiles turn to point now. “I knew it! You are a terrible liar.”

The scowl Tony directs his way is impressive. “You’re kind of evil.” The scowl turns into a smirk. “I love it and I’ll think about it. The whole thing is top secret. Higher than top secret. Which, you know. Whatever.”

Stiles fist pumps. “Yes! Coolest uncle ever!”

Tony goes still and his face is the blankest Stiles has ever seen outside of Jackson during the whole Kanima thing. Stiles is about to lean forward and poke the guy when Tony’s face splits into the possibly the biggest smile Stiles has ever seen. It rivals the absolute joy on Scott’s face when he’d made the lacrosse team and that’s saying something. “I am totally the coolest uncle ever.” Tony says. “Now what about that tour of the town?”

“It’s not gonna take that long,” Stiles warns. “Beacon Hills isn’t exactly New York City.”

“Oh c’mon. I bet you know everyone’s little secrets. You can give me the Hollywood tour of the place.”

“Ha! Yeah, I bet I can stretch it to an hour. But I gotta shower first, so.” Stiles jerks a thumb in the direction of the stairs. “Actually, let me—here, come this way.” He grabs Tony’s elbow and tugs him in the direction of the living room.

Once he gets Tony ensconced on the couch, Stiles digs through a pile of photo albums and brings three or four of them over. He sets them on the coffee table. “Um, so. Photos. Of my mom. And my dad and me. Family photos. Uh. You can,” his hands flail around a little, trying to find the right words. “Check them out. Or whatever.”

Tony runs a finger along the edge of one of the albums. “Will you—“ he clears his throat. “Can you tell me about her? Not right now.” He says hastily and Stiles knows Tony saw the pained look Stiles couldn’t hide. “But later, maybe? If you can.”

Stiles swallows hard. “Yeah. I—yeah. I will. Promise.” He backs up towards the stairs. “I’m gonna—yeah. Shower.”

Tony touches the photo album again, kind of reverently, if Stiles was noticing that kind of thing. Which he’s not. “Sure, kid.” Tony says, easily. “Take your time. I’ll hang out and crave that coffee you promised me.”

Stiles manages a smile and heads upstairs as fast as he can without looking like he’s running away. He’s not fooling anyone, Tony especially, but that’s okay. Stiles can tell Tony is going to be patient with him about this. It’s still hard to talk about Mom, but Stiles is going to manage it for Tony. He kind of has to. Tony didn’t get the chance to meet his mom and know how amazing she was. She would have loved Tony, though, Stiles knows that for sure.

For now, though, Stiles puts all thoughts of his mom out of his head and concentrates on showering and which superhero t-shirt he can wear that will annoy Tony. No way he’s letting on that he owns a few Iron Man t-shirts. Tony’s ego is already big enough to be seen from space. Stiles doesn’t feel like adding to it just yet.

Still, he can’t avoid that warm, fuzzy feeling in his stomach. Tony reminds Stiles of his mom—there’s a definite likeness there and they both have the same kind brown eyes. It’s like having a little piece of Mom back again and Stiles can’t help but already love Tony a little for that.

****

Tony sits in silence and stares at the photo albums until he hears the shower upstairs turn on. That rouses him enough to reach for one of the albums and start flipping through it. Cute family. They all look so happy in the pictures. Tony has family pictures of course, but a there’s only a rare few that have the same kind of feeling to them that the Stilinski family photos do. This is, _was_ , a happy family. Still mostly happy, but a little broken.

It’s not as if Tony doesn’t know what happened to his sister; JARVIS has gotten him every little detail of the Stilinski family, right down to what type of laundry detergent they use (and no, he will _not_ be mentioning that little fact to Stiles or his father) but he’d rather hear about Kristine from the people that knew her best.

Tony flips through a few more photo albums and then has to stand up before it all gets too depressing. He wants to know about his sister; what she was like, who she was, but there’s plenty of time for that. Tony would rather focus on the part of his family that’s still alive. The family that’s going to stay alive, if Tony has anything to say about it. And he has a lot to say about it. Nothing’s going to touch Stiles. Ever. No one is going to hurt him; Tony is going to make sure of that. Stiles probably won’t like it, but that’s okay. Tony just has to make any and all measures he takes as invisible as possible.

He wanders around the living room, poking at the rack of DVDs that have a thin layer of dust on them. Mostly Disney fair, with a few movies here and there that have to belong to the Sheriff. There’s a few professional family photos on the mantel and what has to be Stiles’ school picture.

“I always try to be sick on school picture day, but there’s no fooling my dad.”

Tony turns, a little startled, because he hadn’t heard the kid come down the stairs. Stiles is standing in the doorway to the living room, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his jeans. He’s wearing a truly atrocious combination of a blue Henley topped with a plaid overshirt. The look sort of works for Stiles, Tony thinks, but there is definitely going to be shopping happening in the near future. Tony must not have good control of his poker face today because Stiles rolls his eyes and says “Stop judging my wardrobe.”

“I wasn’t—okay, I totally was.” Tony grins as he looks Stiles up and down. “Say the word, kid, and there’ll be Armani for days.”

Stiles makes a face. “Armani? Dude, I am a teenage boy. What do I need with Armani? I’m still in high school!”

Tony points at him. “Exactly. Who doesn’t want to look awesome in high school?”

“Meh.” Stiles shrugs. “I’m pretty comfortable with who I am.”

He is. Even Tony can see that. “Yeah, yeah. At least let me buy you a leather jacket. You can’t go wrong with a leather jacket—why are you laughing?”

While Stiles laughs himself silly, Tony hears a muffled alarm going off. Stiles waves him off and pulls his phone out of his pocket and pokes at the screen. “Knew I forgot something.” He heads into the kitchen and Tony follows, curious.

He watches as Stiles pulls a pill bottle out of a small basket on the counter. There are other pill bottles in there, but Stiles only grabs the one and shakes one out into his hand. He pops it into his mouth and turns the faucet on, cupping a hand under the running water and using it to help him swallow the pill.

“That was close. You almost got the unmedicated Stiles. That Stiles is not the best at giving tours of Beacon Hills.” Stiles wipes his mouth off with the sleeve of his shirt, dries his hand off on his jeans and caps the pill bottle before tossing it back in the basket. He looks at Tony a little uncertainly. “I’m not crazy. Well, okay, depends on who you ask. But I’m not technically crazy, I—“

“Stiles.” Tony puts a stop to the word vomit before it can get any worse. “It’s fine even if you are crazy. It won’t make me think any less of you. It’s not like I’m a picture of mental health, here.”

Stiles looks relieved, but he could also be concerned that he’s in the presence of someone who just admitted he’s also not all that mentally stable. Tony’s going with relieved. “I have ADHD. You don’t want to hang around me for very long if I don’t take my Adderall. Apparently it’s not a good scene. Hell, _I_ don’t even like being around me when I’m not medicated. It gets pretty scattered up here.” Stiles waggles a finger at his head and makes a face Tony can only describe as “yikes”.

Tony nods in what he hopes is an understanding manner. JARVIS had already informed him that Stiles has a prescription for Adderall, along with anti-anxiety meds, and the occasional sleeping pills now and then. But Tony is nothing if not tactful (Pepper would laugh for _days_ if she ever heard Tony say that out loud) so he doesn’t mention that he knows any of that. He just nods instead and says “That probably would have helped me when I was a kid.”

Stiles laughs a little. “I was on a larger dose when I was younger, but according to my shrink, my brain sort of fixed itself a bit. Probably won’t ever be perfect, though.” He shrugs. “I usually take weekends off, but I could use the focus today.”

Tony nods again and they both stare at each other in awkward silence until Tony clears his throat and shoves his hands in his pockets. He rocks back on his heels and considers trying to say something heartwarming and supportive. What comes out instead is “Any decent place to eat in this town? I’m starving.”

There’s no mistaking the expression on Stiles’ face for anything but relieved this time. “Yeah, actually! There’s a really good diner in town. They make the best pancakes.”

“I could do with some pancakes. And lots of bacon.”

“You’re in luck, lots of bacon is one of their specialties.”

Tony takes a moment to fire off a few texts while Stiles goes to grab a jacket. He sends one to Pepper first, because she needs assurance that he isn’t dead and also hasn’t caused anyone else to get hurt or maimed. Tony’s in the middle of sending JARVIS a list of things he feels the Stilinski house needs which he amends to just finding out which bank owns the mortgage so Tony can have it paid off (he’ll just keep that under his hat for now, though) when Coulson’s face pops up as an incoming call. Tony debates ignoring him, but the guy will just find another way to make Tony talk to him and it probably won’t be pleasant. Coulson is persistent, is what Tony’s saying here. Even Loki couldn’t get rid of him with his staff of doom.

So. Answering the phone it is. “I’m in the middle of something, Coulson.”

“I don’t need to remind you that drawing attention to yourself in a small town is a bad idea, do I, Mr. Stark?” Coulson sounds like he always does. Calm and unflappable. Tony secretly envies that talent.

“No idea what you mean, Agent. Small town? Me? Pfft.”

“GPS puts you in Beacon Hills at the Stilinski home.”

Tony sighs. SHIELD got a bug on him again somehow. It’s going to drive him nuts trying to find out where they’ve hidden it. He has to hand it to their R&D department—they’re getting sneakier. “I’m here to meet someone.”

“That someone would be your nephew?”

“Is nothing sacred with you people?”  Tony’s pissed. He is _so_ pissed. This is just—no. SHIELD can go fuck themselves. “Go fuck yourselves.”

Of course Stiles chooses that moment to come back, this time wearing a red hoodie and jingling a set of car keys. He stops short when he sees Tony and looks a little wary. Tony tries to smile and from the way Stiles’ eyes widen he fails pretty horribly at it.

“Try not to cause any damage. SHIELD would prefer you don’t mention that you’re related to the Stilinski boy.”

Tony’s not just pissed now. He is _livid_. “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, Coulson.”

Coulson goes on as if Tony hasn’t said a thing. “If you could let the Sheriff and his son know that I’ll be by later tonight with some documents to sign, I would appreciate it.”

“What? No! You will not be by later tonight. Coulson—“ but he’s already hung up and Tony’s just yelling at his phone now. He turns it off and tosses it on the kitchen counter before taking a deep breath and turning back to Stiles.

Stiles still looks a little wide eyed and Tony’s half of the exchange. “We don’t have to take a tour of the town if you’d rather not?”

“No, no. It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Just. Work stuff.”

“Oh,” Stiles looks a little worried. “You don’t have to go save the planet again or something, do you? Because we could probably rain check the pancakes. I think saving the world takes precedence over that. Even if they are chocolate chip pancakes.”

Great. Now Coulson’s managed to almost ruin everything. Typical. Tony crosses the kitchen in a few strides and throws his arm over Stiles’ shoulders. “Nope! Not a thing to do with that. We are still a go for pancakes. In fact, I want _all_ of the pancakes. Is that something we can make happen?”

Stiles is starting to look less uncomfortable at being touched and Tony is counting that as a win. “All the pancakes, huh? That could be arranged, but maybe you should start small.”

Tony raises his eyebrow. “And just when do you think I ever started small?”

Stiles grins. “Fair enough. C’mon then. We’ll go have pancakes and I’ll give you a tour that you’ll forget before we’re done.”

Tony resolutely does not think about Coulson being an interfering prick as he steers Stiles towards the front door. Plenty of time for Stiles to figure that out on his own. Maybe he can get the Sheriff to arrest Coulson for being an asshole. He leaves his phone in the kitchen because fuck if he’s going to let Coulson’s interfering ass ruin his day.

****

"Seriously? A Porsche?" Tony Stark parked a _Porsche_ in Stiles' driveway. God, the neighbors are going to think Jackson is at his house or something.

"It was the only car I could get on short notice." Tony says defensively. "And what's wrong with Porsches?"

"What's wrong with Porsches is that everyone I know who drives a Porsche is a douchebag. Plus, aren’t you a billionaire? Doesn’t money make short notice a thing that doesn’t matter?"

Tony looks skeptical. "You know a lot of people that drive Porsches and are douchebags? Also, I was kind of in a hurry to get here."

"Aw, that’s kind of sweet. I think. And it’s just the one guy. But he's douche enough to spoil it for everyone. I'm driving." Stiles grabs Tony's elbow and steers him towards the jeep. "I'm going to drive you in style. My baby will treat you right."

"But--Porsche."

"Do you want to be known as my douchebag uncle who drives a Porsche?

"No." Tony says grumpily as he climbs into the jeep. "Are you sure you don't want to take the Porsche? I'll let you drive.

Stiles hops into the jeep and starts it up. "No, I've already driven one. And stop saying "Porsche". It's starting to lose meaning."

Tony stops trying to buckle his seatbelt to look at Stiles in surprise. "When did you drive a--one of those?"

"Long story. I'll tell you sometime." Stiles waves away the question. "The important thing to take away from this is that they don't do well off road. Not like my baby here." He pats the dash proudly.

"When did you take a Porsche off road? Why have I never taken one off road?" Tony looks a little impressed and then visibly pulls himself back from asking more questions. "Never mind. Let's go get those pancakes, shall we?"

The diner is fairly crowded and they get more than a few stares and not so quiet whispers as they slide into a booth. Tony ignores it with the ease of someone who deals with this shit on a daily basis and Stiles has to stop himself from looking over his shoulder to see who's checking them out. He can hear the clicks of camera phones going off and winces a little. This is going to be all over every social media site within an hour. Maybe taking Tony to the diner wasn't the best idea.

"Don't sweat it, kid. Happens to me all the time." Tony's flipping through the menu (all three pages of it) and fiddling with the silverware. "If you want to go, though, we can." He looks a little hesitant and Stiles says a mental "fuck it".

"Nah, it's okay. Just way more attention than I usually attract. I try to slip under the radar." Stiles fiddles with a corner of the menu, at a loss for words and not sure how to make things less awkward. “You’ve dealt with this a long time, though, huh?”

Tony tilts his head a little and gives him a sad smile. “Longer than I like to think about, honestly.” He leans forward and motions Stiles to do the same. “If—if this is too much for you, I understand. I can leave or—“

“What? No. No!” Stiles has to fight to keep his voice down. “Tony, no. It’s not too much. At all. It’s just, I spent so many years thinking I didn’t have anyone other than my dad, and now here you are and it’s just weird is all. But I don’t want you to leave, okay?” Stiles makes eye contact with Tony and holds it, trying to get him to see that Stiles _does_ mean it and hey, making himself realize the same thing is just a bonus. “Okay?” Stiles tries again.

Tony looks more than a little awestruck and Stiles kind of wants to punch whoever seems to think knowing Tony is a chore or something. “Yeah, it’s weird.” He finally says. “Not in my top ten of weird shit that’s happened this year, but most of that stuff was weird bad. This is weird good.”

Stiles snorts. “Tell me about it, dude.”

That gets an eyebrow raise from Tony. “Oh, really? You’ve had weirder stuff than this,” he flicks his fingers between the two of them, “happen to you?”

Now it’s Stiles’ turn to raise an eyebrow. “Man, if you only _knew_ the weird shit I have seen and done this year. Finding out Tony Stark is my uncle doesn’t even, like, break the top twenty.”

Someone clears their throat and Stiles can’t stop the full body startle. He almost expects Derek to be standing there, since the guy is an expert and creeping around and staring at people until they notice him.

But it’s not Derek. It’s their server and from the look on his face, he’s overheard what Stiles just said. Shit. He didn’t even say it _that_ loudly. And fuck his life, seriously, because their server is Tim Lee and Tim Lee never met a juicy bit of drama or gossip that he didn’t tell everyone or make up so he could tell everyone. Stiles lets his head drop onto the table and rolls his forehead back and forth when Tony asks him what he wants to eat.

Tony ends up ordering for both of them and as soon as Tim leaves, he pats Stiles on the head. “Cheer up, pickle. Maybe it won’t be all over the internet within the hour.”

Stiles sighs and the grimaces when his breath gets blown back in his face. “Oh, it will be. I go to school with that guy. He’s one of the biggest gossips around.” He lifts his head and rests his chin on his arm so he can look Tony in the face. “Guarantee you that guy is on his phone right now posting this to Facebook. And Twitter. And Tumblr.”

“That kid?” Tony scoffs. “He doesn’t look like he knows what a smart—oh. Hmm. I retract that statement. That little shit is on his phone right now and I don’t like the looks of his smile.”

“It’s his ‘I have scooped everyone by knowing something epic first’ smile. We’ve all learned to be terrified of it.” Stiles sighs again. “Sorry, Tony. You probably wanted to keep this under wraps. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Hey, none of that. You weren’t talking loudly enough for anyone but me and Mr. Gossip there to hear you. Not a big deal. We didn't talk about keeping this a secret. It’s not the end of the world, okay? We can handle this. We just have to handle it a little differently now, okay?”

“Easy for you to say.”

Tony pokes Stiles in the hand with his fork, way harder than necessary in Stiles’ opinion. “Who here has two thumbs and is richer than God? Almost anything can be fixed with the proper application of money.”

Stiles rubs the back of his hand and watches the fork tine impressions fade away while he thinks. What is it going to matter if people know he’s Tony Stark’s nephew? Who’s going to care? Stiles doesn’t. As far as he’s concerned, Tony is just a regular dude—one that’s a little overly whiny about not being able to drive his fancy car—but a regular dude regardless. “Nah, let them gossip or whatever. It was going to come out eventually, right? Who cares? Let’s just have breakfast.”

Tim Lee chooses that moment to deliver their food so whatever Tony was going to say is lost to the twin glares they both turn on Tim. Tim looks wide eyed and _way_ less smug than he did five minutes ago. He doesn’t look sorry, though, and Stiles resolves to start a vicious rumor about Tim on Monday. He can’t think of anything appropriately terrible enough right now that won’t make Stiles look like the asshole. Maybe Tim will just have to settle for Icy Hot in his jockstrap. That would probably hurt him more than any shitty rumor Stiles could come up with.

The important thing is that Tony doesn’t look like someone was considering kicking his dog anymore and Stiles has pancakes and copious amounts of bacon. Mmm, bacon. He crams a piece in his mouth and sets about making sure his pancakes have proper butter distribution between the stacks before drowning them in syrup. Tony nods his approval at Stiles’ technique before dousing his own short stack.

For almost the first time since werewolves took over his personal life, Stiles lets himself forget all of it so he can just enjoy the moment. The shit can hit the fan later or never, as far as Stiles is concerned.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this will be three parts instead of two. Turns out there was more story to tell. Also, remember how I said I was going for light hearted and things happened? These are the things that happened.

The buzz of the diner is reaching epic proportions by the time Tony pays the check and he and Stiles head out. More than one camera phone is pointed in their direction and Tony doesn’t miss the way Stiles’ shoulders hunch as they walk out the door. He regrets that this is Stiles’ first introduction to how shitty and privacy invading people can be. Now that the cat’s out of the bag, there’s really no good way to make this disappear. Tony hadn't planned on making a grand announcement, but he was never going to hide Stiles. The word getting out early puts a cramp in a few plans Tony has, but doesn’t cripple them.

Stiles pulls out of the diner parking lot a little faster than necessary and Tony watches his hands tighten on the steering wheel until his knuckles are white. “We can skip the tour if you want.” Tony offers.

“What? No. No, it’s okay.” Stiles sighs a little and stops clenching the steering wheel. “I promised you a tour of our grand city and you’re going to get one, mister.”

“I’m sorry it turned out this way. I probably shouldn’t have come.” Tony swallows hard. “I should have called and gotten in touch first instead of just showing up at your door.”

“Yeah, and I would have hung up on you for pranking me.” Stiles drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he stops at a four way. “Yes, this whole thing is crazy. Yes, it’s really overwhelming and yeah, I’m gonna need some time to get used to it all. But Tony, that doesn’t mean I would trade being anonymous for never knowing that you’re my uncle. Believe me when I say that, okay? I mean it.”

Stiles is looking at him with as serious an expression as Tony’s ever seen on him. Granted, he hasn’t known the kid that long, but he’s not lying. “You say that now—give it a few weeks and you might change your tune.”

“Dude. What kind of an asshole do you think I am? I’m not changing my mind!” There’s a jolt of pain as Stiles smacks him in the shoulder. “Besides, it’s too late now. Like you said, we’ll figure it out.”

Tony grins. “Hell yeah, we’ll figure it out. That’s sort of what I do—figure things out.”

“Me too, dude. Me too.” Stiles smirks and then jumps in his seat as someone behind them lays on their horn. “Oops. Probably should get moving.” He steps on the gas and they shoot off further into town with Stiles narrating all the way. “Now, to your left, you’ll see the city fountain. Would you believe a couple of years ago, someone dumped about a hundred packets of lime green jello in it? There was some…unfortunate crossover with a few of the squirrels in the park, but they were mostly back to their normal colors after a few weeks.”

"Were these dastardly criminals ever apprehended?"

Stiles' lips twitch into a smirk. "Sadly, no. Now, if you'll direct your attention to that lovely stretch of road over there, you'll see the road to the Beacon Hills Preserve. It's pretty much the only thing the town has going for it. We'll head there after a stirring tour of historic Beacon Hills. So, in about ten minutes."

Tony is appropriately impressed by historic Beacon Hills (read: not at all and hides it badly. Stiles doesn’t take offense.) but the preserve is just neat. Tony’s never been one for nature, but he can see the appeal. It’s pretty peaceful out here. He says as much to Stiles.

"Yeah," Stiles says. "Mom and I used to come out here all the time and she'd tell me about all the trees and the different kinds of mushrooms. Stuff like that."

"Sounds like fun."

"Pretty sure it was to wear off my excess energy. We came out here a lot before I got diagnosed with ADHD and she let me run around and scream my head off." Stiles looks sad and wistful at the memory.

They stand there for a few more minutes before Stiles starts fidgeting and Tony starts reaching for the phone he left back at the Stilinski house. He’s just about to suggest the either take a walk or hike or some other nature induced craziness when Coulson shows up with two other agents walking a step behind him like a pair of clones or some kind of agent ducklings.

The fact that he isn't shocked by Coulson's sudden appearance is just depressing.

Coulson manages to look like appearing out of nowhere in a nature preserve is something he does every day. There’s not a speck of dirt anywhere on his person and his shoes are completely scuff free. Tony, on the other hand, has somehow managed to get a twig or four in his hair ( _seriously_?) and mud on the hem of his jeans. "Did you _follow_ me? Really, Coulson? It's come to this? I am an adult, you know."

Coulson smirks a little. "We've been here since your plane landed. Do you really think there's anywhere you could go that we wouldn't know about? SHIELD is just doing our job, Mr. Stark. It would help if you didn't make it harder."

“Um,” Stiles says, moving a little closer to Tony. “Hey, there random Men in Black who just appeared out of nowhere. We come in peace?”

“We’re not here to hurt you, Mr. Stilinski. We’re here to take you someplace a little more secure so we can discuss a few things.”

Stiles shifts uneasily. "I don’t know if I like the idea of "discussing" things with you guys."

That Coulson has come all this way because he thinks there's some kind of security concern has Tony on alert. “What do you mean more secure? Because I was going to wait before I showed Stiles the Helicarrier.”

Coulson gives Tony his disappointed look. It's absolutely the best one Tony has ever seen but he will never ever tell Coulson that. He probably knows, anyway. “I mean somewhere that’s not in public for right now. _Not_ the Helicarrier. Which I don't need to remind you is classified.”

"You say _to-may-to_ I say _I_ _designed the fucking thing_ so I can talk about it if I want."

“Can we get back to why you're even here? Do they teach you how to make everything you say vaguely threatening? Because I have to tell you, it's pretty effective and I don’t like it.” Stiles still looks confused and more than a little wary.

“We can discuss it back at your house, Mr. Stilinski. Please hand Agent Roland your keys. He’ll make sure your jeep gets back just fine.”

Stiles gasps in horror and hugs his keys to his chest. “I’m not handing the keys to my baby to some man in black!”

"Mr. Stilinski, please." Coulson looks to be two minutes from rubbing his forehead in annoyance. If Tony needed any more evidence that he and Stiles were related, he just got it. Being able to annoy Coulson was a skill that Tony took very seriously.

Looks like Tony is going to have to be an adult and play the voice of reason. It's his least favorite thing to do. He lays what he hopes is a calming hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “It’s okay, Stiles. Agent Roland?” The agent nods at Tony's questioning look. “Agent Roland here won’t hurt your jeep. If he does I’ll make SHIELD pay for damages.”

Stiles looks like he’s ready to settle in for a good long argument. Tony squeezes his shoulder as reassuringly as he can even though his mind is whirring through all the things that could possibly have gone wrong. “Seriously, kid. I know Coulson. He’s a man of his word. I promise.”

Stiles remains stiff under his hand for a few more minutes before finally sighing and tossing the keys over. “Be gentle, she grinds in second.” The agent nods and lopes off.

Coulson looks relieved—or as close as he gets to relieved—and motions for them to head back down the path towards the parking area. Tony can already tell that he’s not going to get any answers from Coulson until they get somewhere that isn't out in the open. He doubts there’s any place secure enough for SHIELD's tastes in Beacon Hills, but Coulson will make sure the Stilinski house is as secure as it can be.

Coulson and the agent flank Tony and Stiles as they walk back to whatever government SUVs are waiting for them. Stiles jumps a little and stops to dig his phone out of his pocket. He starts to reply to whatever text he’s gotten when the unnamed agent grabs the phone out of his hands. “Hey!” Stiles looks mutinous and Tony can’t blame him. “Give that back!” The agent hands the phone to Coulson, who drops it in a suit pocket.

“What the fuck, Coulson? You're stealing from kids now?" And not just any kid, either. A kid that's one of __Tony's__ and no one messes with people Tony cares about.

“Just a precautionary measure for right now, Mr. Stark.” Coulson looks slightly less unflappable. “I’ll explain everything as soon as we’re mobile.”

Tony narrows his eyes at Coulson. “What is it you don’t want him finding out?”

“Nothing we should discuss right now.”

Stiles crosses his arms over his chest. “Well, too bad. Because I’m not moving until I get my phone back. That was a text from my dad and he—hey, let go!“

Coulson sighs and shakes his head at the other agent who grabs a hold of Stiles’ upper arm and starts dragging him down the path. Stiles digs his heels in and starts yelling. The agent ignores him and keeps marching forward pulling Stiles along with him like he doesn't weigh a thing.

Tony turns towards Coulson to demand he do something. He’s not sure what yet, but this is some unacceptable shit here and there’s a terrible tight feeling rising in his chest. He did this—brought whatever this is down on Stiles. On a kid who would have lived a normal life if Tony had never interfered. Is it possible to fuck up everything you touch? Because Tony’s giving it his best shot.

Tony’s about to tackle the agent who’s manhandling Stiles (and doing a piss poor job of it. Stiles is squirming and fighting the guy every step of the way. Tony is seriously proud.) when there’s some sort of, well. Tony doesn’t want to say roar—but it’s totally a roar—that seems to come out of the trees in all directions around them. Whatever it is has Stiles freezing and smirking at the agent. “Better let go, dude. Trust me.”

That’s about the time it all goes to shit.

The agent doesn’t get a chance to reply because right about then _something_ comes hurtling out of the trees towards them. Tony feels Coulson’s fingers bite into his arm as he’s yanked back behind the agent. Stiles doesn’t seem to be too concerned—he’s given up fighting and the agent has a second to look relieved before the something barrels into him and he goes flying to land in a heap ten feet away. The man shaped thing looks like it’s about to grab Stiles and take off before Stiles yells “Derek, wait!” and the guy-thing growls and turns to face them, pushing Stiles behind him even as Stiles gives protest.

Tony hears Coulson’s quiet “Shit.” and nods in open mouthed agreement.

There’s a guy. Or a monster. A guy-monster. His eyes are red and he has _fangs_ and _claws_ and no eyebrows? What the hell? He’s got Stiles tucked behind him like Stiles is something precious. And he’s growling.

Can't forget the growling. It's top notch growling. Very menacing. Tony could do with a little less menacing, if he's being honest.

“Um.” Stiles puts a hesitant hand on guy-monster’s shoulder and peeks over his shoulder. “So. Werewolves are real?”

****

The only thing Stiles can think is “Well, this escalated quickly.”

Derek’s all tense muscles under his hand, poised to leap at and probably disembowel anyone that gets close. So first order has to be calming him down. Stiles doesn’t have a lot of experience with this, mostly because Derek has never lost his shit like this protecting Stiles. He was controlled when he cowed Isaac at the jail and he pushed Stiles out of the way of the kanima but he's never seen Derek act like this. Over _Stiles_.

He shakes Derek a little. Well, he tries to—the guy is like a mountain of muscle. A mountain of muscle who has a hand wrapped around Stiles’ hip keeping him in place. There are claws entirely too close to important parts of his anatomy. He tries shaking Derek again to get his attention. “Hey. Derek. Derek, it’s okay.”

“Holy shit.”

Oh, right. Stiles is out here with Tony, who doesn’t know that werewolves are a real thing.  

Head MIB guy is pulling his own Derek move and has Tony behind _him_ with his gun out and aimed at Derek. This is not good. Not good at all. Stiles tries to sidestep Derek, get in front of him, something. Even though it won’t kill Derek he still doesn’t want the guy to get shot.

Except Derek tightens his grip on Stiles’ hip which makes his claws dig in through denim. Stiles yelps a little and punches Derek in the shoulder. “Ow! Derek! Seriously, man. Chill out or this guy is gonna shoot you.”

Derek growls, but retracts his claws. Stiles will never get over how cool that is. “Won’t kill me.”

“That’s not the point! The point is that everything is fine and we _all_ need to calm the fuck down!” Stiles punches Derek in the back a few (five) times. "This isn't helping to resolve the situation."

MIB guy holsters his weapon and holds his hands up in a non-threatening manner. “Mr. Stilinski is right. Let’s all just relax.”

Tony shakes himself a little. “Stiles, get away from—from that guy? Werewolf? Whatever. Just come over here where you’ll be safe. Please.”

That makes Derek snarl at Tony and pull Stiles in tight against his back. Derek smells really nice. It's disturbing because Stiles never really gave much thought to how Derek smelled. “That’s kind of not an option right now, Tony. Derek, seriously, c’mon man.”

“They were hurting you. Kidnapping you." Stiles can tell that Derek has no idea what's going on here, but he's just going to wing his way through it like he does everything. It's a terrible idea and typical Derek.

“No,” Stiles shakes his head. “Well, okay, that douche over there was. But he’s totally seen the error of his ways. Considering how unconscious he is now, he's totally and _completely_ learned his lesson. MIB guy there I'm still iffy on, but Tony vouched for him. And Tony would never hurt me. Right, Tony?”

Tony nods, eyes still wide. “Of course not, Stiles.” He blinks then and looks hurt. “Stiles, what the hell? I would never—“

Stiles waves him off as best he can, stuck behind a wall of wolf. “See? Plus, Tony is my uncle. Derek, meet my uncle, Tony Stark and MIB dude. Tony and MIB dude, meet my, uh, Derek. Hale. So now that we’re all introduced and stuff, we can –“ he tries to shift around Derek again with less luck than before. “Derek, oh my _god_! Seriously?”

"I think we _all_ need to relax." MIB dude says and Stiles pokes Derek in the back as hard as he can. Nothing. The guy is like a sphinx.

"Hear that? We all need to relax. So if you could go ahead and let me go," Derek growls some more at that. Looks like that's off the table. "How about you de-wolfify yourself, then? You're about to scratch the hell out of me again and I really like this pair of jeans."

That at least gets Derek to lose the wolf face but he refuses to let Stiles get any closer to Tony or the MIB dude. Stiles gives up at that point and lets his head fall forward onto Derek's shoulder. "Derek, I don’t know what else I can tell you other than _it's okay_."

"That guy was trying to kidnap you." Derek huffs. "I saved you. In case that slipped your mind."

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Fine. You saved me from the big bad man. Oh, Derek, you're my hero." he says flatly. Derek stiffens and Stiles feels like he just kicked a puppy. "Okay, actually you kind of did, because that guy must have taken lessons in being a dickhead. But I don’t think anything bad would have happened. Right, Mr. MIB? _Right_?" Stiles lifts his head and glares at the agent.

MIB dude looks up from where he's checking on the other (asshole) MIB dude. "Right, Mr. Stilinksi. And it's Agent Coulson." Asshole MIB guy is groaning on the ground and Stiles enjoys the schadenfreude because he's going to have _bruises_ from that jerkoff. Bruises that he can hide easily, but that's not even the point here. The point is he was _manhandled_ and Stiles gets enough of that from his werewolf dealings. He doesn’t need extra manhandling all up in his grill.

"Awesome. See? Agent Coulson is a cool dude in a super nice bespoke suit who's going to—What?" Stiles says when everyone looks at him. "I was really into _Inception_ for a while and I fell down a Wikipedia rabbit hole. There was this whole thing about Arthur's suits and--never mind! Like it's never happened to you and that is totally not the point here."

"The point is _werewolves are real_?!" Tony's recovered enough to look shocked and a more than a little pissed off. Stiles watches from behind Derek as he rounds on Coulson. "You! You weren’t surprised at all which means you knew about this! How did I not know about this? Where is SHIELD hiding this juicy information?"

Coulson hauls asshole MIB up off the ground. "All will be explained when we're at the Stilinski house, Mr. Stark. If we could all _please_ leave now?"

Stiles shares a look with Tony and Tony shrugs his shoulders. Derek still isn't showing any inclination to move and Stiles pokes him again, just to see if he can make Derek growl again. "Derek."

Coulson sighs. "Come along, Mr. Hale. I promise nothing is going to happen to Mr. Stilinski. Now, you, on the other hand…"

Stiles yelps when an arrow buries itself in the ground at Derek's feet. "Holy shit!"

"I would suggest that you allow Mr. Stilinski to come with us or the next arrow will find its mark somewhere important."

"You brought _Barton_ with you? Seriously, Agent?" Stiles watches as Tony turns in circles looking up into the trees surrounding them. "That changes things. Means you think there could be a real threat." Tony points at Derek. "You. Let go of my nephew or throw him over your shoulder and carry him. I don’t care. But we’re leaving or I will let the nice agent and his friend shoot you as many times as they want if you don't start moving."

Derek looks at Stiles over his shoulder and for half a second it looks like he's really contemplating the second option. But in the end he just grabs the back of Stiles' hoodie and starts walking towards the entrance to the preserve. Stiles has no choice but to keep up with him or fall over. He's getting really sick of being hauled around.

Tony falls into step beside them, though he keeps Derek between him and Stiles. Probably a good idea for now. Stiles is still floored at the fact that Derek heard Stiles from wherever he was and swooped in like some comic book hero. It was all too weird. And sort of made him feel kind of funny inside. Like Derek might actually _like_ Stiles. As, you know, a _person_. That would be a big step in their non-relationship built on snark and fear.

Mostly, though, Stiles tried not to think about how he was going to have to explain werewolves to Tony and oh god, he was going to have to tell his dad. There probably wasn’t going to be any getting out of that now. Tony could probably keep a lid on it, but his dad was going to wonder why Derek Hale was almost surgically attached to Stiles.

This was turning out to be the weirdest day ever.

****

No one said much of anything on the walk back. Coulson is busy holding up the asshole agent who, if Tony has anything to say about it, is getting fired or transferred somewhere very cold and very dark. Derek-Hale-the-crazy-werewolf-guy has a hold of Stiles like he’s afraid Stiles is going to run if he lets him go. Tony’s pretty sure that won’t happen. Mostly because Hale has a death grip on Stiles’ hoodie and also because Stiles keeps shooting considering looks at his werewolf protector.

Tony marks off a bonus for Beacon Hills on his mental checklist. If Stiles has people (werewolves) like this to protect him, Tony might not need to replace the whole town with his own people. Maybe only half. Which he's going to work on doing as soon as he has his phone again.

Because the universe loves Tony, Clint _fucking_ Barton is standing in front of two SUVs with another agent. He’s geared up but has his bow slung over his shoulder. Barton’s smirking, because of course he is. Also because he’s an asshole. He tosses a half assed salute Coulson's way and Tony doesn’t miss how his eyes never leave Hale for a second. Barton's one of the best guys you can have watching your back.

Tony hears Stiles squawk and looks over to see that Hale's pulling his uber protection role again and Stiles is once again behind him. “Chill out, wolf boy. Barton’s an asshole, but he’s on our side.”

Stiles perks up at that. “Holy shit, is that Hawkeye? Tony you never said you knew Hawkeye, too! What kind of uncle are you, keeping awesome things like this from me?” Barton shoots Tony a smug look.

“Stiles,” Hale growls. “Shut. Up.”

“What? No. That is Hawkeye, dude. _Hawkeye_. You know, one of the Avengers?” From the blank look on Hale's face, it's pretty clear that the whole Avengers saving New York thing is something he might have missed. God knows how. "They saved the planet from aliens?" Stiles drops his head back and stares at the sky in exasperation. "Look, if you can't be civil then you need to go back to whatever wolfy business you have."

“I’m not leaving you with strangers.”

Stiles sighs like Hale is the worst thing to ever happen to him. Tony knows that feeling. “For the last time, no one else is dangerous except that jerkoff you drop kicked. Well,” he pauses, considering. “I think everyone here is probably dangerous on some level, just not dangerous to _me._ Also, Tony isn’t a stranger! “

“I literally do not have the patience for this.” Coulson cuts in, looking like he’s two minutes away from losing his mind. “You—“ he points at the agent next to Barton. “You take this idiot and get him out of my sight. It’s possible he needs medical attention. I don’t really care at this point.” Coulson shoves the agent towards his buddy and turns back to the rest of the group. “You—“ he points at Hale. “You are going to get in the SUV and you are going to come with us. No arguing. No growling. None of us want to hurt Mr. Stilinski. So _calm down_.”

Whoa. Coulson is _pissed_. Tony can tell because he’s pulling out the ‘I can kill you with a bag of flour.’ voice and he can if the rumors are true. Tony really doesn’t want to see what’s going to happen if Hale decides to argue. Coulson seems like the kind of guy who knows how to deal with werewolves.

Hale seems to think the same thing because his shoulders lose a bit of tension. “Fine,” he mutters and lets Stiles slide out from behind him. Stiles starts to make a beeline for Barton and Hale grabs the back of his hoodie again. “No.” is all he says and pushes Stiles in the direction of the SUV not occupied.

It’s flat out hilarious to watch Hale have an internal freak out over whether or not Stiles should sit in the middle (next to Tony, which is bad because clearly Tony has cooties.) or by the door (where he could possibly fall out on a sharp curve or something equally as ridiculous.). Stiles seems just as amused by it and bites his lip trying not to laugh.

Finally, though, Hale pushes Stiles into the backseat and climbs in next to him. Tony gets in next to Stiles and hangs on for dear life as Barton peels out of the parking lot.

It's quite possibly the most awkward and uncomfortable car ride Tony has ever experienced and he's experienced a lot of awkward and uncomfortable moments. Most of them caused by something he's said or done. While drunk.

But he's not drunk now and he's worried as hell for the shitstorm that's clearly been stirred up. Coulson brought Barton with him, which means it's serious. Had he brought Barton _and_ Natasha--well. Less said about that, the better. "Fill me in, Coulson. What's going on?"

Coulson shifts in his seat and gives Tony an apologetic look. "It really is better if we wait until everyone is in one place. I'm sure by the time we reach the Stilinski house, the Sheriff will be there as well."

Tony sighs. "You know it kills me when I don’t know things, Agent. This is just cruel."

"Actually, he's going pretty easy on you, Stark." Barton offers.

"You are the most unhelpful person ever."

"I try."

Stiles is a warm weight next to him, fingers drumming on this thighs. Hale is glaring at everyone in the car in turn except Stiles. He's saving the _tell me what is going on_ looks for Stiles, who is pointedly not looking at Hale and has taken to gnawing on fingernails that are already bitten down to the quick. Tony nudges Stiles in the side with his elbow. "Hey, stop freaking out."

Stiles pauses mid gnaw and looks at Tony incredulously. "Stop freaking out? I can't. I mean that literally. I literally cannot stop freaking out right now. Because I'm in a car with government dudes who probably want to mind wipe me, _Derek Hale_ just outed himself as a werewolf because he thought I was in trouble, and I have _accused him of murder_ before. Also, _Tony Stark_ is my uncle. So, no. Freaking out is happening, oh my god, what am I gonna tell dad? He won't be safe if he knows about werewolves. Shit." Stiles heaves in a breath, then another, and Tony's at a loss. He's not good with consoling people. He's terrible at it, in fact.

Hale solves the problem by grabbing Stiles by the back of his neck and shaking him gently. "Stiles. Calm down."

"Easy for you to say! Oh, man what if Dad tries to shoot you?"

"He's not going to shoot me, Stiles."

"He might if you show him your alpha face. Which you're going to have to, you know. He's not going to buy werewolves without some proof."

Hale rolls his eyes and if Tony thought Stiles was a champion at eye rolling, he's got nothing on Hale. Hale is at the Olympic level. "You know we could have told him before this. I offered."

Stiles snorts. "Yeah, because that's something I just can bring up casually and explain. Plus, I was going to use Scott for the show and tell portion. Dad's way less likely to shoot him." He sighs then and sags forward. Hale still has his hand on the back of Stiles' neck but takes it back when he sees Tony looking.

Tony slings an arm around Stiles and pulls until Stiles is resting against his side. Stiles fights his hold a few seconds before relaxing into Tony and sighing again. Tony's not given to hyperbole (Lies. He _so_ is.) but the look Hale gives him is murderous, complete with red eyes and everything. Tony ignores him and gives into the urge to kiss the top of Stiles' head. In the front, Barton makes a snorting noise and then a pained one as Coulson punches him in the shoulder. Tony makes a mental note to have JARVIS fuck with Barton's shower temperature at random times. Maybe a few hundred cold showers will cure him of being a dick about touching family moments. "It's going to be fine, Stiles. Trust me."

"You don't understand. I am going to be grounded _forever_. Like, when I'm thirty five and old? I'll still be grounded. I've been lying to him about everything for _months_ ," Stiles moans.

Tony, Barton, and Coulson all wince a little at thirty five being considered old.  "That sucks, kid."

"Yeah."

Tony expects Stiles to pull away but he stays leaning into Tony for the rest of the drive. It's nice and Tony decides he could get used to this sort of thing. What he really wishes, though, is that he'd known about his sister and her family before this. Tony could have been there for the wedding, for Stiles' birth, maybe even for his first steps. He's missed so much and thinking about it makes him hold Stiles a little tighter.

He's not missing anything else, ever again. Tony Stark is going to be the best uncle to ever uncle. Or something. Whatever. He's going to kick ass no matter what.

****

Dad's cruiser is parked in the driveway when they get there, right next to the Jeep. There's also way too many black SUVs parked around the neighborhood to be a coincidence. Well, shit. Dad has an endless supply of spies around town and Stiles knows he's had people reporting to him all morning and giving him updates of Stiles and Tony’s every move.  

It all boils down to this: fuck his life. It's not even noon yet. On a _Saturday_. Stiles should be taking weekend mid-morning nap right about now.

They pile out of the SUV and Stiles is still a little starstruck that Hawkeye is here with his awesome bow. Allison would be so jealous if she was actually talking to anyone instead of skulking around the school looking guilty. Derek drags him out on his side because he's a crazy person who still thinks that Tony's going to hurt him or something. Stiles isn’t even trying to fight it at this point. It’ll just make Derek grumpier, which is a thing Stiles didn’t know was even possible.

The front door opens before they get to the front porch and Dad steps out. He has his _none of your shit, Stiles_ face on and Stiles gulps. Then he tries to hide behind Derek, but of course Derek isn’t interested in sheltering Stiles from his father’s wrath. He sucks. “You suck,” Stiles whispers at Derek.

Derek pushes Stiles in front of him. “He won’t shoot you to get to me. Probably.”

“Oh, _now_ you worry about getting shot? Also, don’t be so sure he wouldn’t shoot me. He looks like he’s considering it.”

Dad doesn’t say a word and oh god, it’s so much worse than Stiles could have imagined. He steps aside and watches as what has to be the oddest group of people enter the Stilinski house in single file. Stiles is waiting for Dad to say or do something, but all he’s getting is stone face. It’s on par with how he looked in the interrogation room after the whole kidnapping Jackson incident. This is—this is not good. At all.

Stiles braces for the worst when Dad grabs his arm and pulls him close. He can’t help wincing a little because he’s grabbing the same spot the asshole MIB guy had a hold of earlier. Dad’s face falls at that and Stiles opens his mouth to explain that it’s not anything his dad did, but instead finds himself being hugged tightly. “Dad,” he says, as best he can with his face smushed into Dad’s shoulder. “Dad. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

He realizes too late it’s basically the same thing he said after Gerard Argent punched his face a whole bunch of times. Shit. The hug tightens even more and yeah, Dad hasn’t forgotten either. Stiles hugs back and just breathes in the familiar scent of his dad.

Stiles isn’t sure how long they stand there before someone clears their throat. Dad finally lets go, but Stiles hangs on for a few seconds longer until his eyes aren’t shiny with what are definitely _not_ tears. Then he puts on his big boy pants and turns around. Tony looks contrite in between glaring at Coulson, who has the best poker face Stiles has ever seen. Hawkeye is looking a little jealous and Derek…Derek is looking at Stiles with an inscrutable expression. Right. Stiles is going to backburner the Derek weirdness for now because there are bigger fish to fry.

“So,” Stiles says. “We’re all here now so explaining should happen.”

Dad puts a hand on Stiles’ shoulder and steers him towards the living room. “I agree. Let’s start out with how I told you to keep things low key and then I hear from Warren that you’re trending on that tweeter thing. After that you can explain why Derek Hale is in our house.”

Stiles groans. “Twitter, Dad. And seriously? I’m trending?”

“Please sound less excited about that.”

“I have to agree with your father, Mr. Stilinski. It really isn't something to be proud of.” Coulson says as he takes a seat in one of the armchairs.

“Dude, please call me Stiles. Mr. Stilinski is in the room, okay?” Stiles flops onto the couch and his dad sits next to him. Derek and Tony have a scuffle to see who gets to sit next to Stiles. Derek wins because he cheats and Stiles catches the smug look he tosses in Tony’s direction. Tony scowls and sits in Dad’s La-Z-Boy. Hawkeye leans against the wall near the doorway, his bow and quiver nowhere to be seen.

“Stiles.” Ooh, Dad’s not happy. He’s eyeing Derek like he wants to start there instead, but Stiles goes for the most obvious distraction first.

“This is not my fault. Tony and I were just hanging out in the preserve and Coulson and his men in black showed up.”

“Stiles.”

“Okay, so maybe Tim Lee overheard something he shouldn’t have, but it’s not like I was shouting it from the rooftops, Dad!”

Coulson leans forward with a serious look. “That’s why we’re here, Stiles. Unfortunately, as happens with social media, the information that you are Tony Stark’s nephew has gone viral.”

Tony makes a distressed noise and heads for the kitchen. He comes back with his phone. The silence of the room is filled with his phone going nuts with notifications. “Shit, shit, shit,” he chants. “Coulson, tell me you guys got out ahead of this.”

“JARVIS did his best, but he couldn’t squash everything. The news is out, Mr. Stark. All we can do now is damage control.”

Tony curses again and walks out of the room, phone pressed to his ear, already talking a mile a minute.

Dad is tense next to him. “Explain. Now.” is all he says.

Coulson introduces himself and Hawkeye—who is apparently Agent Clint Barton—and bottom lines it for everyone. Thanks to more than a few Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr posts pretty much everyone in the free world now knows that Stiles Stilinski is Tony Stark’s nephew. Coulson is matter of fact as he explains that this is a big deal. Stiles is leverage against Tony. SHIELD has already started investigating threats against Stiles—kidnapping and death threats to be specific.

It's starting to hit Stiles just how serious this is. He thought maybe paparazzi following him around until something bigger came along would be the worst of it. The idea that someone might kidnap him or _kill him_ to get something from Tony is something Stiles can't even wrap his head around. His dad could end up being alone because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

He’s in the middle of a panic attack before he realizes it. They usually don’t come on this fast, but Stiles has been borderline since the preserve probably and he was too distracted to realize. Derek is a wall of edginess next to him and Dad is getting up and heading for the kitchen and Stiles’ Ativan. Tony comes back into the room at the worst possible time and freaks out because Stiles is freaking out and Stiles just can’t with all of this right now.

Luckily, Dad is there with his Ativan. He’s careful not to touch Stiles because touching him during a panic attack makes it worse, which sucks. Stiles knows his dad hates that he can’t comfort Stiles when he gets like this. He holds out a shaking hand for the pill and it takes a few tries to get it to his mouth and under his tongue. After that, there’s nothing to do but wait. Dad stays kneeling in front of him until Stiles’ hands stop shaking and his heart rate slows down. It’s a long ten minutes.

Stiles pulls his sleeves over his hands and wipes at the sweat that’s gathered on his face. He hates taking the Ativan because it always makes him so tired, but it’s been the best thing for his panic attacks. It takes effect quicker than the Xanax did. In general, Stiles would like to never have a panic attack again, but he figures all the werewolf shit plus today’s drama just overwhelmed his ability to cope. He lets out a long breath and swipes the tears away. “Thanks, Dad.” he croaks out.

“You’re okay, you’re fine.” Dad pulls him into a hug and rubs his back. Stiles lets himself go limp and ignore everyone else. “Don’t think this gets you off the hook for explaining why Derek Hale is sitting on our couch.”

“Hmm.” Stiles straightens up a bit and Dad sits back on the couch and tucks Stiles under his arm. A few years and twenty pounds ago, he probably would have pulled Stiles into his lap. Instead, Stiles toes off his shoes and pulls his legs up onto the couch. Derek jumps a little when Stiles shoves his toes under Derek’s thigh. “’s here because of werewolves.” Fuck, it’s been too long since he’s had to take an Ativan and the drowsiness is hitting him hard. “D’rek can explain.”

Dad shakes him a little. “Werewolves? That's not a real reason, Stiles. How about you stay awake and explain it instead.”

Stiles rubs his face against his dad’s shirt and catches his nose on a button. Ouch. “Nap first. Then ‘splain it all, promise.”

He drops off to sleep hearing his dad say “Werewolves? Really?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third part should happen sometime in the next few days.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd we're done!

Tony can admit that sometimes he's impulsive and doesn’t think things through. This can be a good  sometimes. Like when you have to fly a nuke through a dimensional rip in the sky. Super handy for stuff like that. Not so handy in cases of secret nephews.

He'd intended to introduce Stiles slowly or after he had time to get used to the big change his life would undergo. Or never. Stiles would have been the one to make that call.

But this--this is worse than anything he could have anticipated.

This is Pepper furious because Tony hadn't given her a heads up that the shit was going to hit the fan. This is finding out just how much he's fucked up by rushing out to California without a thought to how this was going to affect Stiles and his father.

Tony sits down on the kitchen floor when Pepper tells him about the threats. _Kidnapping_ and _death_ being the big ones.

"Pepper, I fucked up."

"Yes, you did," Pepper says. "I've got our people on the worst of the threats. We're monitoring everything, Tony."

"I can’t lose Stiles, Pepper. I just found him."

Pepper's voice softens a bit. "And you won't. I'm sending some of our best security from the California office. They're en route now. Nothing will happen to Stiles, Tony."

Tony runs a hand through his hair. "I did this all wrong. I should have waited, but I--"

"But you were happy and excited and that's understandable."

"I think I just ruined someone's life."

"Tony, stop," Pepper's voice is firm. "It happened. We can't take it back, but we're going to deal with it. We'll keep him safe."

He's about to reply when the Sheriff comes into the kitchen and grabs ones of the pill bottles out of the basket. "Shit, Pepper, I gotta go. Keep me updated." He hangs up before she can reply.

Tony follows the Sheriff back into the living room where Stiles is bent over like he was in the SUV earlier. He's breathing fast and loud and looks terrified. Tony can't help but freak out a little, which makes Stiles freak out more and Barton punches him in the shoulder. "Knock it off. He's having a panic attack and you're making it worse."

There’s silence in the room after Stiles slumps against his dad. Tony sits back down in the armchair and fiddles with his phone. “Panic attack,” The sheriff confirms, after Stiles has fallen asleep. “It’s been a few years since he’s had one that bad. We keep the Ativan handy just in case.”

“Fuck,” Tony scrubs at his face. “Sheriff, I am beyond sorry about this. I—” He’s made such a mess of everything. “I should have contacted you first instead of just showing up.”

"Yes, you should have," the Sheriff sighs. “Why don’t you call me John? I have a feeling we’ll be talking a lot,” Stiles mumbles something in his sleep. John shushes him and rubs his arm soothingly. “I’m not happy about any of this. The least of which being that my son now has _death threats_ against him. And apparently believes in werewolves.”

Tony can tell John is keeping a lid on his anger for Stiles’ sake. “The werewolf thing is new to me, too. But pretty sure it’s legit.” They both look at Hale expectantly.

Hale shrinks into himself at the scrutiny. Tony notices he has a hand resting on one of Stiles’ ankles. He remembers the way Derek had protected Stiles from a threat and is willing to give the kid the benefit of the doubt. Even if he does turn into a red eyed hairy monster with no eyebrows.

“Explain yourself, Hale. Are you the reason my kid’s been lying to me for the past few months?”

“I don’t know where to start,” Hale mumbles, a little defensively.

“Try showing him first,” Barton says and Tony doesn’t miss how his fingers are twitching towards the butt of his gun.

Hale sighs and deflates. Then he does his red eyes, fangs, and claws thing. It's still scary as shit the second time around. John visibly recoils, but keeps it together. "Does this mean you killed your sister?" he asks suspiciously.

"No!" Hale's eyes flash and he sighs, features returning to normal. "No, that was my Uncle Peter."

"Peter Hale? The Peter Hale that was in a coma?"

"He wasn't actually in a coma. It's complicated."

John gives him a look. "Then maybe you should un-complicate it."

It’s a sad and fucked up story. Hale doesn't look at anyone as he talks about how most of his family was murdered by a house fire made to look like an accident, how his uncle survived and killed his sister and then started killing people responsible for the fire. How he killed his uncle and started biting teenagers. John blanches at that and proceeds to question Hale rapid fire about some murders that happened a few months ago and Hale answers every one, rubbing Stiles’ ankle in a manner that suggests it’s more soothing for him instead of Stiles.

Tony opens his mouth to ask another question, when Stiles starts to stir. He makes a few faces that are, in a word, adorable. Barton snorts a laugh like he knows what Tony’s thinking. “Shut up, Barton.”

“Blargh,” Stiles grumbles, sitting up with help from John. He yawns hugely and rubs his eyes. “Did I miss the Derek Hale Story Hour? Also, I hate Ativan.”

John rubs his back a little. “I know you do and yes, you missed story hour. But you’re just in time for your own story hour.”

Stiles freezes. “Any way we can avoid the Stiles Story Hour? I’m sure there are more important things we could talk about? Maybe?”

“We’ll talk about those later. First, you’re going to tell me the truth behind all the lies you’ve told me in the last few months.”

“Lying isn’t the best word for it. Obfuscated, maybe?”

"Stiles."

"Ugh. Fine," Stiles looks around the room at everyone before getting into it.

Stiles side of it is possibly more terrifying because Tony thought small towns were supposed to be _safer_. That is most definitely not the case as Stiles talks about his best friend getting bitten by Hale's uncle and how he's spent all his time trying to help his friend control it. Stiles doesn’t look at Hale when he talks about the werewolf bite gone wrong and how it turned into too many people dying.

By the time show and tell plus story time is over, Hale looks miserable and Stiles doesn’t look any better.

It's a lot to take in. Tony's mind is reeling with all the new information. He's beyond pissed that apparently some crazy old fuck kidnapped Stiles and beat him to send a _message_. The whole lizard thing is just _weird_ and he notices that Coulson took a lot of notes during that time. Something SHIELD didn’t know, then.

Hale is still explaining about what it means to be pack and how two of the kids he turned ran away and haven't been seen since. He's worried and Tony can tell there's something else going on that he isn't being told. Which is fine. Tony will find out what it is even if he has to bug the entire town of Beacon Hills.

"Dad! Enough with the questions for now, please?" Stiles finally says. Hale looks relieved at that and Tony can't blame him too much. John's a cop and can't help but want every single detail. "I promise that I'll fill you in on every little thing later. And Derek will help. Right, Derek?"

Hale looks like it's the absolute last thing he wants to do, but he nods grudgingly.

John slings an arm around Stiles and gives him a hug. "I’m proud of you, kid. Not happy with the danger you put yourself in and I wish you’d told me, but I’m proud.”

Stiles gives him a rueful smile. “In my defense, werewolves aren’t the easiest subject to bring up, you know?”

“I don’t suppose it is,” John laughs a little. “This entitles me to eating whatever I want for two months. You’re grounded for the same amount of time and you can’t complain.”

Stiles gapes at his father and then prudently decides to let this one go. “Fine! When Dr. Sprague looks disappointed because your cholesterol is off the charts, don’t look at me. I tried to keep you healthy and you’re blackmailing me.”

“I can handle Dr. Sprague. His boyfriend gets parking tickets every month.”

“Are there no limits to how low you’ll stoop?”

“Not when it gets me a double cheeseburger with bacon.”

"Speaking of," Barton says and Tony jumps a little. He's been so intent on the whole werewolf thing that he forgot Barton was there. The man is too damn quiet sometimes. "I could go for something to eat."

"Ah, man," Stiles smacks his forehead with the palm of his hand. "I meant to go to the grocery store and get stuff for our family dinner."

Tony can't help the little thrill that goes through him at hearing _family_. He knows just how to fix this. "What say we get a giant order of Chinese food and make Coulson pay for it?"

Stiles points at him. "Yes. This is the best idea ever and I'd like to subscribe to your newsletter."

Tony stands up and pokes Coulson in the shoulder. "Credit card, Agent. Hand it over."

Coulson sighs a little but hands over his card and tosses Stiles' phone back to him. "I'd say try to control your spending, but I know that's just ridiculous."

"You got that right," Tony shoots him a grin and then beckons at Stiles. "C'mon, kid. You can do the ordering."

Stiles stands up and wobbles a little. "Whoa. Stupid Ativan always does this." He slaps Hale's hand away when he tries to steady Stiles. "I'm fine, I can do it. But thank you," he adds when he see Hale's hurt expression.

If Tony was a betting man, he might say that his nephew had Hale wrapped around his little finger, but neither one of them realized it yet. Tony narrows his eyes at Hale and tries to decide when he's going to have to have that "if they're underage, don't engage!" talk with Hale. Pepper made him sit through two seminars even though Tony told her a million times that she said she was 21 and even had ID. Not a great time in his life, to be sure. Hale looks back like he knows what Tony's thinking.

Stiles heads for the kitchen, calling over his shoulder "Menus are in here. Come help me order my weight in fried rice."

Tony laughs at the way Coulson widens his eyes. John just shakes his head and makes a shooing motion. "Better hurry, he might actually go through with that. You've never seen him eat before. It's a little like a train wreck."

He joins Stiles in the kitchen and they order enough Chinese food to feed everyone for days. Two days, tops, he amends after Stiles adds a triple serving of egg rolls. They're hanging out in a comfortable silence when Coulson steps into the kitchen, serious expression on his face. “I’m afraid we have some things to discuss involving Stiles’ safety.”

“Do we have to?” Stiles whines. "I wanted to remain blissfully ignorant."

Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Sorry, kid."

"Ignoring it isn't an option, Stiles," Coulson says gently.

Stiles blows a long breath. "Yeah, I know. I was just hoping to keep things normal for a little bit longer."

And that right there is why Tony never should have showed up here. He should have just let Stiles go on with his life. But it's too late now. “Sorry. This is pretty much my fault, so I have to fix it. I did this all wrong,” he mutters.

“Tony, c’mon. Stop it. You showing up today was a surprise, but a _good_ one, okay?" Stiles leans against the counter next to Tony. "Crazy people threatening me isn’t your fault either. So knock it off because it just makes things worse.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”Tony's dead serious. “Maybe you and John should move to New York. I can protect you better there.”

Stiles’ mouth drops open. “What?! What, no! No, Tony. We’re not moving. My whole, you know, _everything_ is here.”

“I have to agree with Stiles.” John says as he steps into the kitchen with Hale right on his heels. “I won’t uproot him like that. I’m sure there’s something we can work out.”

Tony's disappointed, but he knew that getting the Stilinskis to move was a long shot. He points at Stiles and John. “Fine, but the Sheriff’s Department is going to get brand new everything and I’m having my own private security placed in town.” Stiles starts to protest at that, but Tony holds up a hand. “Non-negotiable, Stiles. You won’t even know they’re around, I promise. I don’t hire incompetent people. But I can’t leave you without protection.”

“He’ll have protection,” Hale cuts in, looking stubborn.

“You can’t watch him 24/7. How about we make it a joint effort?”

Hale looks like he's tasted something sour, but bites out "Fine."

"I don’t want to hear details," Stiles says. "No, I'm serious. I don’t want to know if someone is watching my every move. It's better that way."

"Fair enough," Tony allows. "But there's going to be things you will have to know. What to do if someone kidnaps you, how to notify us, that kind of thing." Tony hates that Stiles will have to learn these kinds of things, but they could save his life some day.

"Like I don’t have enough homework already? Okay, okay." Stiles says when everyone starts to argue. "I wasn't saying no, jeez."

Coulson, Barton, and John all head back to the living room to do some more planning and Stiles looks pretty relieved to see them go.

Hale lingers for a few minutes, looking uncomfortable. “I’m leaving,” he says abruptly. “Be careful.”

“If you leave you’ll miss dinner. So stick around a while.” Stiles says casually. “I think we ordered all the Chinese that Beacon Hills has to offer. Right, Tony?”

“Absolutely,” Tony claps Hale on the shoulder and ignores the way Hale flinches the slightest bit. “Stick around, Hale.”

When it looks like Hale is still considering leaving, Stiles pulls out the big guns. “If you stay you can listen in on all the plans that Dad's making with the super secret agents."

 “I—“ Hale looks a little lost. “I suppose I can stay. I should call Isaac, though.” He heads back into the living room, pulling his phone out as he goes.

Tony knocks his shoulder against Stiles'. “That was nice of you.”

Stiles shrugs and starts grabbing plates out of the cupboard. “He’s lost a lot, you know? He’s kind of a jerk but so am I, so it works out.”

Tony watches Stiles work in silence for a while. “I really am sorry, you know. For bringing all of this down on you and your dad.”

“Tony, I meant it when I said it was okay,” Stiles puts the plates down and turns back to look at Tony. He looks apprehensive and unsure of himself. “Do you--do you regret it?”

Shit, Tony really needs to stop fucking this up. "No! The only thing I regret is what this will do to your life."

"Tony," Stiles says, eyes serious. "I'm glad you came to find me. I wouldn’t trade not knowing you for anything, okay?"

“I meant what I said, too. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. You’re too important to me.” Tony stares at the linoleum. Feelings are hard and Tony hates when they get all over everything.

Stiles crosses the kitchen and puts a hand on Tony's shoulder. “I believe you and I trust you, Tony.”

Tony shudders a little at the trust that Stiles is putting in him. He swears to himself that he's not going to mess this up. Tony looks up at Stiles and Stiles opens his arms wide and smiles. “C’mon, dude. Let’s hug it out, Stilinski style.”

Tony laughs. “Yeah, okay.”

As hugs go, it’s a pretty good one. They have a lot of time to practice getting it right.

End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have many, many, MANY ideas for this 'verse, just saying.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](http://murphlicious.tumblr.com/) that I sometimes use to...tumble. About things. And stuff.


End file.
